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Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Viewing With Suspicion
Yesterday was my usual walk-to-the-ghetto-grocery day. When I woke up, rain poured down in buckets, but by 9:00 A.M. that had cleared. So I dragged my collapseable shopping cart out to the sidewalk and away I went.
I worried about everyone I passed all the way to the store. This has not happened before. The difference yesterday was that I passed so many young adult men behaving oddly. On other trips I have passed just a few men and none of them particularly scary, not even the drunks. These people scared me because they all seemed to be anxiously looking around for potential attackers, hunching and slouching along,nervously licking and licking their lips, furtively darting their eyes, left/right, left/right. All of them expensively dressed in new-looking hip hop attire and big-bucks sneakers. Each of them had the demeanor of someone ready in a split second to duck, dive, or dash behind protection. The frightening part of this was that the only explanation for seeing so many young men like this in a small area, all of them anxious as they were, the only explanation I could come up with...there had to be some kind of gang thing or drug war underway...and I did not want to get hurt in the middle of it.
The only way I ever get up nerve to walk to the store is the knowledge that I am walking along a very busy street, cars and trucks buzzing by all the time. I like to hope that should I be robbed/beaten up/shot, some passer-by would at least use their cell phone to call the police. Yesterday I reminded myself several times that many people would see if something bad happened to me.
As I reached the store's parking lot, a man was putting his purchases into his car. He called out, "Hello," to me. That was kind of odd since he was at a distance, but OK. Then he closed his car door and stood with his back to the car watching me go into the store. From inside the store I saw him still standing there looking my way. I went on into the store and was in the produce section when he came back into he store. He stood on tippytoes in the entry bouncing from foot to foot, looking around. Seeing me, he dashed through the checkout and into an aisle. As I went down a different aisle, he went down the next one and at the end, he peeked out of the neighboring aisle as I emerged from the one I was in. Then he jumped back. Now is that crazy or what? It was like he was scared to let me see him, but at the same time afraid to let me out of his sight. This happened three more times and I can honestly say, I was creeped out. I am a little old lady with white hair up in a bun. Anyone seeming to be terrified at the sight of me has to be a lunatic.
Why didn't I go to the manager's desk at the store front and complain about this person? Well, what was I going to say? "Some man keeps acting afraid of me?" I don't think so. The manager would wonder if I had excaped from a home.
I decided to admit that I had lost my nerve and call a taxi to come and drive me home. Having made that decision, I felt better and finished my shopping. Happily I saw no more of the peek and jump fellow. Through the checkout and into the foyer where the phone is situated, I saw that the his car was gone. Apparently he had tired of playing "I'm scared of that old lady." So I summoned up my determination and walked home dragging the groceries. The trip home was fine, no nervous drug guys, no crazy people.
Finally I rounded the turn at the Post Office, getting close to home. Here came the biggest man I've seen in a while, not just tall, but wide, too. He was wearing two hats, large hats. The hat next to his head was bright green. The one on top of that was bright yellow. The top hat had some kind of stick-out decoration on the sides which sort of vaguely gave an effect of little Dutch girl. Also he wore a heavy lumberjack-type jacket. The hats and jacket were peculiar because this was a very warm day. The strangest thing, though, was that his eyes were shut and he walked along with his hands out feeling around in the air.
My first thought was to jump off the sidewalk and give this fellow lots of room. Then I thought, "No way. I can't jump the cart of groceries, too, and I don't want him to knock the cart over." So in a very loud, firm voice, I barked out, "Good morning!" He walked around me without reply busily feeling the air ahead of him.
Another morning on 38th Street. Whatever else may be said of this place, it hasn't bored me yet.
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